


Solo

by siggy



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:26:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28873800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siggy/pseuds/siggy
Summary: Scully works a serial case, while Mulder is injured.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43





	1. Solo Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Rating: NC17 for graphic violence, sex and expletives.  
> Category: Casefile, MSR  
> Disclaimer: Not mine and no money is being made.  
> Summary: While Mulder is suspended and on medical leave, Scully gets assigned to Violent Crimes.This story is set season 5 before ‘Travellers’ but it doesn’t follow canon.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Mulder is suspended and on medical leave, Scully gets assigned to Violent Crimes.  
> Thanks:  
> This story is set season 5 before ‘Travellers’ but it doesn’t follow canon. Also there is graphic violence and extremely bad language right from the start. So, if that’s not your cup of tea, then now is the time to hit the ‘Back’ button.

While Mulder is suspended and on medical leave, Scully gets assigned to Violent Crimes.  
Thanks:  
This story is set season 5 before ‘Travellers’ but it doesn’t follow canon. Also there is graphic violence and extremely bad language right from the start. So, if that’s not your cup of tea, then now is the time to hit the ‘Back’ button.

~oOo~

Solo

Prologue

Druid Hill Park.  
Baltimore.  
Maryland.  
0200hrs

"This is what it must feel like to take LSD," Tessa thought as she walked along the lakeshore path. The night sounds and the moon, glowing like a paper lantern above the trees, dribbled into her senses like crystal clear water. Never before had she been so aware of each moment as it passed. The heavy footfalls of her companion made a muffled sound on the damp earth. The noise of her own breathing sounded forced and harsh in her head; the prick of the knife at her spine, diamond sharp. 

“Where are we going?” she asked, attempting to turn to look at the man behind her.

“Keep your eyes front and shut up.”

Tessa winced as the knife was poked, hard into her lower back. “Please, what do you want? If it’s money, I can get you some, just tell me what you want.” 

“I want you to shut the fuck up and keep walking.”

Tessa was finding it hard to catch a decent breath. Her respiration was so fast and shallow that she was in danger of hyperventilating. She knew she had to calm down; she had to think of some way to get away from this guy. What good were all those self-defense classes she'd taken last summer if she couldn't get away from a creep with a knife? She knew she had to grab any advantage but so far he hadn't given her any or, if he had, she'd been so mentally paralyzed that she had missed them. .

"Stop right here."

"Look, wait, can't you just talk to me…please, just talk to me. You don't have to do this." Tessa was panting as if she'd run a marathon. He was going to rape her; she knew it. 

"Oh, now you want to talk to me, you should have thought of that earlier you stupid bitch." 

"What?…I don't underst…" 

"Shut up and kneel down."

Tessa knew that this was her last chance; she had to get away right now, because if he got her on the ground it would be all over. She willed herself to breathe slowly, to calm down. She felt the muscles in her legs tighten in readiness to run. The earth was soft beneath her cheek. She wasn't totally clear on how she had come to be lying prostrate on the damp ground, but the back of her neck and head pounded as though she'd been hit with a wrench. She tried to push herself up with her arms but they wouldn't cooperate and she just ended up flopping about like a beached fish. Strong hands gripped her shoulders and rolled her onto her back. She looked up, but it was as though she was seeing everything through a long tunnel and, at the end of the tunnel there was him.

"It's you." She heard herself say.

"Yes, cunt. It's me."

She heard his voice; it sounded a very long way off. Then came a faint ripping noise and, before she could protest, thick tape was being laid over her mouth and smoothed down roughly. She was rolled to her stomach, her useless arms dragged behind her and her wrists taped together. Her hands quickly felt bloated with trapped blood. Once again she was flipped onto her back, her hands trapped, painfully underneath her.

"Does that hurt, cunt?"

Not wanting to anger him she nodded her head. Her body was starting to wake up, though her head still throbbed. Despite her position, there was still a part of her that believed she might escape, that this sort of thing could not possibly happen to her. 

"Good." 

Oh, God. She was going to die. His words, but even more so, his eyes told her as much; how could one man look so different. Earlier he'd smiled at her, she'd even thought he was quite charming. Certainly he had been good looking, but now he barely looked human, he looked at her with eyes that were dark and empty and colder than death. 

"You should have let me buy you that drink shouldn't you, bitch?"

Tessa felt tears coming, it was making it hard for her to breathe, her nose was feeling blocked. She shook her head, not at his words, but at her the utter wrongness of her situation. She felt his hot breath on her face as he straddled her thighs and bent down close. He smelled nice, spicy and pleasantly warm. Not a hint of sulphur. 

"No's not a word we say around here, cunt."

She watched as his eyes roamed her body, his hands following the path his eyes had prepared. He squeezed her throat, and for a second she thought he was going to strangle her, but then he trailed his hands further down and palmed her breasts. His eyes had glazed over with his arousal, and she knew she could to nothing to stop him from raping her on this loamy moonlit path. She was whimpering now. He stopped; he took his hands off her and seemed to wake up.

"I'd like to fuck you, but I shan't."

Tessa wanted so much to believe he wouldn't hurt her, but she knew she would just be deluding herself. Hope is a cruel companion to the truly hopeless. She tried to block out the knife as he showed it to her, waving it slowly back and forth, close to her eyes. She tried very hard to see other things, she tried to imagine her children, all sitting in neat rows waiting for her to begin the lesson. She tried to see their faces; Keith, with his sandy hair and freckles, Beth and her retainer, which the eleven year old hated so much. In the end, the silver sheen of the knife blotted out everything; it was all she could see. The hand holding the knife was unnaturally pale, until she realised that he was wearing gloves. Latex gloves, the kind doctors wear. He kept the knife in front of her eyes as his other hand undid the buttons on her blouse.

"Do you see it, bitch?"

She didn't see any point in responding to his question until he pressed the tip of the knife against the delicate skin of her lower eyelid, she could feel the blood run down the side of her face and trickle behind her ear.

"Answer me, cunt. Do you see it?"

Tessa nodded her head jerkily, moaning against the tape across her mouth.

Seemingly satisfied, he lowered the knife and using both hands he pulled the sides of her blouse apart exposing her stomach and breasts. 

"Girls night out, eh?"

Tessa cringed as she felt a rubbery finger run along the elastic underside of her plain, white cotton bra. 

"I asked you a question, bitch"

The knife appeared once again, and hovered over her face. She nodded again. Hating him now for reducing her to this cringing, nodding thing.

"Don't ignore me, don't ever ignore me."

She watched as something almost childlike appeared in his eyes, before being sucked back down, into the void of his pupils. The knife disappeared from her line of sight and she sighed in relief.

"I'm going to make you look like nothing on earth, bitch. No one who sees what I've done will ever forget you."

Tessa detected a slight note of wistfulness in his voice, almost as though he envied her. It was the last coherent thought she had as she suddenly felt his gloved finger trace a horizontal line low on her stomach which was swiftly followed by pain so pure that she couldn't even scream. 

She could hear grunting, she thought it might be her, but then she realised that it was him making the noise. She could feel the knife cutting through layers of skin, muscle and fat, she was breathing so hard and fast through her nose that it sounded like one long inhalation. Flashes of light sparkled behind her screwed up eyelids as scalding tears ran down into her hair. She started to groan behind her sealed lips, like a woman in labor. As she felt his hands, deep inside her, sliding amongst her slippery flesh.

"Open your eyes, cunt."

Tessa heard his voice through the noise of her agony. She didn't want to obey, but as if, of their own accord, her burning eyes opened. Glistening blue-grey coils, dripping scarlet met her, it took her a moment to understand what she was seeing. 

"Don't they look pretty, bitch?"

He seemed to understand that she wasn't capable of answering him as she felt the hot slick wetness placed carefully on her chest. She was starting to feel cold, very cold but she didn't mind because it seemed to be numbing the pain. She could hear her breath coming fast and shallow. Tessa wanted her mother, she longed for her in a way that she hadn't since she had been a child. She felt like a small child right now, completely certain of the monsters under the bed. 

"You dying on me, bitch?"

His face appeared as if suspended above her eyes. But it was blurred and his features indistinct. Her eyes lifted to the moon, which seemed to be getting bigger and more luminous as it dripped its light down on her like honey. She listened to her heart stutter; the pain was a distant thing now, not worth thinking about. She wanted him to go away and leave her to listen to her own breathing and to look at the light but he kept talking. She could hear his voice as a faint buzz, like an elusive mosquito that she couldn't slap away…She felt her heart flutter like leaves in the wind…when did the moon get so bright?

He sat back on his heels, his body hot and humming with tension. It had been a little too quick; he must have nicked an artery. She had been good though, very satisfying. In fact the whole thing had gone very well. He allowed himself to bask in his success for a few moments longer. He had work to do, he couldn't relax yet. He wanted to arrange her just right. There was the clean up too. Once all that was finished he could go and wind down. The coppery smell of blood filled his senses and he smiled as he set to work.


	2. Solo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Mulder is suspended and on medical leave, Scully gets assigned to Violent Crimes.

Solo  
Rating: NC17 for graphic violence, sex and expletives.   
Category: Casefile, Scully/other, MSR   
Summary: While Mulder is suspended and on medical leave, Scully gets assigned to Violent Crimes.  
Thanks:

Note: This story is set season 5 before ‘Travellers’ but it doesn’t follow canon.

~oOo~

Chapter One

Mulder's Apartment.  
Alexandria.  
Washington DC.  
0600 hrs

Around 2am, Scully decided she hated the spring that had been prodding her in the ass all night. As the hours had passed and her attempts to achieve deep sleep had been thwarted by its insistent presence, she had gone beyond hate, directly into loathing until she now positively despised the damned thing. She got up off the battered old leather couch and groaned as her lower back twitched and twanged with little jolts of pain. She gave the couch a glare and headed towards the bedroom to check on the reason for her discomfort.

Mulder was sleeping the sleep of the drugged. He lay on his back, one arm was flung to the side and the other lay across his stomach. Scully watched the rise and fall of his abdomen and listened to his gentle snores. Her eyes moved to his feet sticking out of the bedclothes at the foot of the bed. Those big feet of his, with their long hairy toes, one set of which twitched slightly as if irritated by being surrounded in Plaster of Paris. The cast began at his toes, going as far as his thigh just below his groin. It was a bad break of his right femur with accompanying muscle damage, causing spasms which meant that he had to take some pretty hefty muscle relaxants. So, with the huge cast, the need for crutches and the medication, he couldn't be left alone in case he fell and caused himself some more damage. Scully thought it was quite possible she’d be causing him injury before too long. Sighing in frustration she set off for the bathroom leaving Mulder to sleep for a little longer.

Mulder's bathroom was much like the rest of his apartment, small, dingy and somewhat grimy. Shucking off her pajamas, she started running the shower, and stepping into the tub she moaned in pleasure as the hot water eased her aching muscles. She made quick work of her hair and then turned the water off before Mulder's notoriously unpredictable plumbing could turn nasty. Wrapping a towel around herself, she stood in front of the bathroom mirror and began to brush the knots out of her hair. She winced as the brush caught on a particularly stubborn strand and was horrified to find that she was on the verge of tears. Swiping angrily at a lone tear that had made a bid for freedom, she dropped her brush in the sink and looked at herself in the mirror. Her reflection showed a face that looked old, tired and not a little hard. Scully thought she’d looked better with cancer. She'd hoped, after surviving against all the odds, that somehow life would be different, or at least, that she and Mulder would be different. She’d read accounts of miracle recoveries and how the patient suddenly got a renewed zest for life, how their world-view had undergone a paradigm shift. Not for her this lifting of the veil. No, good old Scully had taken the minimum amount of sick leave and gone right back to chasing phantoms and Mulder had carried on keeping secrets, and holding on to information like a three year old with a candy bar.

She was tired of it all, tired of travelling the same road, always out of the loop and one step behind. What good were they doing? What was the point? They never got any proof of the phenomenon they investigated or if they did they were never able to hang on to it. Christ, she couldn’t even bury her daughter, just an empty coffin. The thought of Emily opened the floodgates, and fat, scalding tears ran down her face and splashed into the sink; the weight of sorrow almost crippling. How many more of her children were out there? How could she save them all, when she couldn’t even save one? 

Adding to the whole impossible mess, she now knew the supposed cure for her cancer was also the means by which she could be called away at any moment to God knows where, to be slaughtered or even worse; to be taken again, to disappear. Even if she could somehow save her genetically crippled children, there was no way she could keep them safe. That was a moot point anyway; she wouldn’t be having any children, manufactured or otherwise, even that choice had been taken from her. Her only choice now was whether to leave or stay.

“Scully?” 

Mulder always did have great timing.

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.” She called. Running the cold tap, she splashed some water on her face. Slipping on her robe, she left the sanctuary of the bathroom.

“Morning, Mulder. How did you sleep?” She asked as she walked into the bedroom.

“Like a rock, but I need to pee, could you give me a hand?” 

She watched as he managed to swing his legs out of the bed. “If you’d just use a bedpan it would be much easier.” She went to him and handed him his crutches, keeping an arm around his waist in case he was wobbly.

“Unless you get a thrill from carrying around receptacles full of your partner’s urine, then my answer would have to be, over my dead body.” He started to clunk his way to the bathroom. “You can come and hold it for me if you like?” 

Scully didn’t grace this with a reply; she wasn’t really in the mood for witty comebacks. She was still angry with him for getting into this situation in the first place. Instead, she took out her frustrations on the bed and plumped the pillows with rather more vigor than was strictly necessary, then made quick work of straightening the under-sheet and quilt. She could hear Mulder clumping about his bathroom. Probably trying to give himself a sponge bath from the amount of splashing going on.

“Mulder, take it easy in there.” She spoke through the bathroom door. “You shouldn’t be out of the hospital, never mind walking about on your own.” She jumped as the door flew open and Mulder emerged, looking damp but happy.

“I’m okay Scully I don’t like not being able to shower though.”

“Yes, well perhaps you should have thought of that before you started charging through the woods without your partner.” 

“You’re not going to let this go are you?”

“Not this time, Mulder.” 

“You know why I didn’t call you.”

“Mulder, I don’t need you to protect me from our cases. “

“It was little girls, Scully. He was killing little red-haired girls. I couldn’t let you be a part of that.” 

Mulder put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it slightly. Usually it would have felt comforting, warm, but not today.

Shrugging off his hand, she stepped towards him, invading his space. “Let me get this straight. It’s okay for you to investigate child murders. You, who’ve been so affected by the loss of your sister, but I’m too fragile to accompany you because I lost a daughter that I knew for barely a week?” She could hear her voice and she sounded like a complete bitch, but she couldn’t help herself.

“Samantha’s not dead.” 

“Jesus, Mulder, even you can’t be that naïve.” It came out of her mouth before she could stop it. She winced as Mulder's face morphed from a look shocked hurt to bitter amusement

“Are you coming up for the wrong time of the month Scully? Or don’t you have to worry about that anymore?”

“Fuck you.” The noise of the slap was so loud, the imprint of her small hand on his cheek, clearly visible. She reached up as if to touch the mark, but let her hand drop to her side instead. “God, Mulder, what are we doing to ourselves?”

Mulder hopped his way to the bed and sat down heavily, gasping sharply as pain shot up his leg. Propping his crutches against the wall he looked up at her. “I really don’t know, but don’t beat yourself up, if you’ll excuse the pun. I deserved that.”

“Yeah you did, but I shouldn’t have said what I did. I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

“Mulder, just for once, could you not tell me what I’m feeling.”

Before he could reply, they heard a key turn in the door.

“Dana, honey, it’s me.” Maggie Scully’s voice came clearly through to the bedroom.

“Oh good, it’s the shift change.” Mulder rolled his eyes.

“Come in Mom” Scully called, rather unnecessarily. She started to turn towards the door.

“Are we all right, Scully?” 

She turned back to face him. The look in his eyes made her want to say yes, to say that they were fine. “I don’t know, Mulder, I really don’t know.” She’d never been less than honest with him, she wasn’t about to start now. She walked away and went through the door, leaving him alone.

~oOo~

“Hi Mom, you’re early.” Scully gave her mom a peck on the cheek. She could smell the familiar perfume. Her mother had worn the same fragrance for as long as Scully could remember. 

“Well, I thought you’d need to get off a bit early, didn’t you say that you had a meeting with Mr. Skinner?” Mrs. Scully said, placing the bags of supplies she’d brought on the kitchen counter

“Yes, I’m to be reassigned while Mulder is off.”

“And how is Fox?”

“He’s stubborn, but don’t let him get out of bed today, unless he needs to go to the bathroom. He’s still a little shaky and I want him off that leg as much as possible, until his muscles relax.”

“Oh don’t worry; he’ll stay in bed alright.”

Scully almost felt sorry for her injured partner. Her mother was something of a tyrant in the sickroom. On the other hand it had made the Scully children a hardy breed only complaining to their mother if severe loss of blood or imminent death was in the offing.

I’m sure you’ll manage Mom, and thanks for doing this.”

“To be honest I’m glad to be out of the house. Now that Charlie and the kids have gone back home, the place feels too quiet. He was sorry to have missed you, by the way.”

Scully knew that her mother didn’t mean to sound accusing but she heard it in her voice anyway. “I’m sorry, but…”

“I know, Dana, something came up at work.”

“Do I use that excuse that often?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?” Maggie said, not unkindly.

“I’ve got to get dressed. I’ve got that meeting in an hour.” Scully went over to Mulder’s desk and picked up the clothes she’d laid out over the back of a chair the night before.

“Yes, well, I’d better get all this stuff unpacked. I think I’ll do a little baking while I’m here.”

Scully smiled at her mother, the tension easing a little. She finished dressing and picked up her briefcase and car-keys then went into the little kitchen. “I’m going now mom. Just ask Mulder if you don’t know where something is. Will you be okay?”

“Don’t worry Dana we’ll be fine. I’ve got your cell number if anything terrible happens, but it won’t.” She stepped forward and gave her daughter a brief hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Dana, are you alright? You look tired.” Maggie put her palm against Scully’s cool cheek.

Scully’s eyes closed briefly and she leaned in to her mother’s touch. “I’m fine, mom.”

“Of course you are, but then you wouldn’t tell me if you weren’t, would you?” Maggie said resignedly, breaking the contact

“I’ve got to go.” Scully felt the loss of her mother’s hand more acutely than she would have thought. “I’ll see you later. Say goodbye to Mulder for me.”

“See you this evening. Take care.”

Scully gave her mom a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and left the apartment hoping that the day could only improve from here.


	3. Chapter 3

Solo  
By: siggy  
Rating: NC17 for graphic violence, sex and expletives.   
Category: Casefile, Scully/other, MSR   
Disclaimer: Not mine and no money is being made.  
Summary: While Mulder is suspended and on medical leave,   
Scully gets assigned to Violent Crimes.  
Note: This story is set season 5 before 'Travellers' but it   
doesn't follow canon.

~oOo~

Chapter Two

FBI Headquarters   
Washington DC  
08:15

As Scully opened the door to AD Skinner’s outer office, his secretary Kim looked up and gave a little smile.

"Take a seat Agent Scully, he’s on a call, he’ll just be a minute." Kim gestured at the sofa against the far wall.

"Thanks," Scully smiled and sat down. She felt rather apathetic about this meeting. No doubt she’d be packed off to Quantico to teach or be loaned out to the pathology labs as an extra pair of hands. That would be fine with her; it might give her some time to think, to actually make some decisions about her life.

"Agent Scully, the Assistant Director will see you now."

Kim's quiet voice invaded her thoughts and she nodded in acknowledgement. Getting up from her seat, she walked to the frosted glass door, knocked once and walked into the office.

Skinner’s office reflected his status as an Assistant Director. Big desk, big windows and lots of light; the man was sitting behind his desk looking through a file. He was immaculate as always, his shirt snowy white and beautifully pressed. He must spend a fortune on his laundry service, unless he did them himself; Scully almost smiled at the thought of him carefully ironing his shirts with knife sharp creases.

"Did you bring them, Agent Scully?"

Skinner's brusque voice cut into Scully’s reverie, "Yes, sir." She reached into her briefcase and pulled out the requested items. Walking forward she placed Mulder’s ID and weapon on the desk. Skinner took them and placed them in his drawer.

"How is Agent Mulder?" He asked, looking at her for the first time.

"He’s still in some pain, sir, but he’s going to be fine, as long as he does as he’s told."

"Hmm, good," He said, heavy disapproval evident in his tone. "Agent Scully, I’ve had a request for your services by SAC Prebetich over at VC. I just got off the phone with him in fact. It seems that you’re needed right away."

Scully was a little surprised; she hadn’t expected to be assigned to a field position. "What case is this?"

"The ‘Artist’. Apparently a man walking his dog came across a body an hour ago in Baltimore. It has all the trademarks of his other victims."

"I'm aware of the case but I’m not completely familiar with details, sir."

"I know, Agent Scully, you’ll have to get up to speed with this one as quickly as you can. SAC Prebetich wants you over at the scene ASAP; I’ve assigned you a car and driver to get you there. You can read the file on the way." He leaned forward and handed her a manila folder.

"Yes, sir." She took the folder and slipped it into her briefcase. 

"There’s one more thing, Agent Scully."

"Sir?"

"I don’t want you to involve Mulder in this. I do not want to find out that he’s unofficially consulting on this case. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal, sir. May I ask why?" 

"It’s quite simple, agent. The Powers That Be do not want this case to become a media circus. Mulder is a journalist’s dream. They do not want stories of maverick agents riding roughshod over Bureau policy. They want this case solved, they want an arrest and they want it to stick. What they don’t want is for some lawyer to throw evidence out of court because it was garnered by an agent under suspension."

Scully’s hackles rose at his words. "I’ll admit that Mulder may be a little rash at times, but he gets results. This case has been on the books for how long? Four years if I remember correctly."

"Agent Scully, Mulder may get results, but they come at a high price. He’s messy and undisciplined and so far he’s been protected by his connections, but I suspect even they cannot carry on covering for his recklessness; the Doran case being a prime example." Skinner took a folder from the pile on his desk and opened it. He pointed to a typewritten page. "He muscled his way into this investigation without being invited; he insulted the agent in charge. I believe he called him, and please, correct me if I’m wrong, ‘a natural born paper pusher, with all the deductive reasoning of pond scum,’ and he does this in front a room full of agents and local law enforcement. He then acts like the lone ranger, even going so far as to ditch his partner so that he could go off with guns blazing and he killed the suspect."

"He saved that little girl’s life and the lives of Doran’s future victims." 

Skinner leaned forward in his chair, his finger prodding the file in front of him for emphasis. "He nearly got himself killed in the process, had he bothered to bring backup he might have endangered them as well. He was damned lucky that Doran just smashed his leg and not his thick skull."

"Sir, Mulder is a damn good agent, probably the best the Bureau has. His main concern is for the victims of crime, not the reputation of the FBI and its endless internal politicking. There are enough people concerned with that; too many to be quite frank. Perhaps if there was less concern with covering our collective rear ends, then we might actually save more lives. That’s what we’re here to do isn’t it?" 

"Agent Scully, you’d better curb that attitude unless you’re gunning to join Mulder in his suspension. I don’t know if you two have grasped this, but the FBI has rules, it has protocol and procedures that have to be followed. If Mulder doesn’t like that, then he is free to seek employment elsewhere. He’s very lucky that he got away with a suspension this time. He was very nearly called before the review board, had things turned out less favorably with the Doran case, he might well have found himself out of a job." 

Scully took a deep, calming breath. From Skinner’s words she gathered that he’d once again put in a good word for Mulder. She lowered her eyes and nodded her head in acknowledgement. 

Skinner got up from his chair and walked to the front of his desk. "Agent, you need to get over to Baltimore. I expect you to give your best on this case. SAC Prebetich asked for you specifically."

"Yes, sir." She looked at him for a second "Thank you." Skinner wasn't the enemy, he'd probably been dragged over the coals for Mulder's behaviour. They both had a lot to thank him for over the years.

"Get going Agent Scully, that body's not getting any fresher."

Once out of the office she exhaled a long, deep breath.

“Tough meeting, Agent Scully?” Kim asked, sympathetically.

"I think I'm having one of those days." Scully sighed.

"Then perhaps it can only get better. Your car and driver are waiting for you on level two, bay twelve. Good luck."

"Thanks, Kim."

Scully walked out of the office and into the corridor. Making her way to the elevator she thought about her meeting with Skinner. A serial case was probably the last thing she needed right now, she'd wanted some quiet, routine placement so she could untangle her thoughts. Now she was going to be spending her days with the end results of some psychopath's idea of recreation, and the evenings fending off Mulder's inquiries into the case. She thought briefly of lying to him about the assignment, but she was an awful liar and Mulder would figure out the truth in a second 

There was a small cluster of people waiting at the elevator. Looking around at their faces, she wondered when the FBI had started recruiting adolescents. They all looked so young and earnest. She found it difficult to remember a time when she'd felt that confident and sure of her purpose. She suddenly longed to be innocent of the machinations going on in the wings; she longed not to know so damn much. There was a soft 'ping' as the doors opened and the crowd moved into the elevator. She rode down to the basement garage and soon found the car and driver waiting for her. 

"Agent Scully?" The driver folded his newspaper and straightened up from his position against the driver's door.

"Yes." 

"Okay, hop in. I take it you want the back seat if you're going to catch up on some reading." He opened the rear passenger door.

"Thanks." She got in and he closed the door behind her.

Scully settled back in her seat; the car made its way out of the garage and onto the street. She opened her briefcase and took out the folder that Skinner had given her. It was thick and well worn, not generally a good sign of progress in a case. She opened it and began to read.

~oOo~

Maggie Scully turned around at the sound of Mulder's crutches against the floor. "Fox, what are you doing up?" She asked, reaching for a dishtowel to wipe her hands and walked into the living room.

"I'm just getting my laptop, I've reached my quota as far as Oprah and infomercials are concerned."

"Fox, you should have called me, I would have brought it to you." She walked over to him and barred his way. "Now, go and get back into bed. I'm under strict instructions not to let you get up today. I'll bring your laptop in a moment."

Mulder looked at her determined expression and realised where Scully got her stubborn streak. He knew that look too well and there was no arguing with it He turned around with some difficulty he started to clump his way back into the bedroom "Jawohl mein Fuhrer," he muttered under his breath.

"I'm not deaf, Fox."

"I didn't think you were, Mrs. Scully." He looked over his shoulder and grinned. 

"How about dropping the Mrs. Scully and just calling me Maggie, I think we've known each other for long enough, don't you?"

"Okay, Maggie."

"Good, now bed." She pointed to the bedroom.

Wondering how much more of this mothering he could stand, he made his way back to his bed. He'd spent half the morning flicking through the channels on his TV trying to take his mind off the look on Scully's face as she'd walked out of his bedroom. She'd looked so tired and defeated. To be was honest he was frightened. He’d spent most of his life alone in one way or another. Scully had changed that; somehow she’d ingrained herself into his life and no matter how difficult he’d been (and Mulder was well aware of his faults), no matter how much he’d shut her out or how often he’d left her hanging on the sidelines because he thought it would be easier that way… through everything she stayed, she trusted him and even though she didn’t always agree with him she always listened to his ideas, she tried to find solid evidence to back him up. She was his partner even when he hadn’t wanted one. Now the word partner seemed wholly inadequate to describe what she was to him 

He'd been completely blindsided by her this morning. Oh, they’d argued before, but never had they been cruel. Mulder rubbed his cheek where she’d slapped him. He was deeply sorry for what he’d said but he’d just reacted out of instinct. He’d been hurt and he’d wanted to hurt back. The trouble was that they knew each other too well, they knew all the right buttons to press. “Shit.” Mulder said aloud and reached over to the nightstand for his cell, he pressed the speed dial.

“Scully.”

Her voice sounded slightly distracted, he could hear the rumble of a car. “Scully are you driving?”

“Not exactly.” 

He heard the rustle of papers. “Then what are you doing?”

“I’m being driven.”

“Don’t tell me, Skinner gave you a promotion.”

“No, he gave me to Violent Crimes. I’m on my way to Baltimore. I’m trying to get up to speed with the case.”

“What’s the case?” 

“Look Mulder can we talk this evening, I’ve got to get a handle on this thing before I get there.”

“Okay, Scully I just wanted to apologise for this morning, I was an ass, I’m sorry.” He heard another voice in the background talking to his partner, he heard her giving a muffled reply.

“Mulder I’ve got to go, we’ll talk tonight.” 

The phone went dead. “Fuck!”

“Fox?” 

Mulder looked up to see Mrs. Scully standing in the doorway holding his laptop. “Sorry Mrs. Scu…Maggie.”

“Good grief, don’t look so embarrassed I do have two sailors for sons you know.” She walked to the bed and handed him the computer. “Was that Dana on the phone?”

“Yes.” He watched Maggie’s face he could tell that she was dying to ask him something.

“Fox, please don’t think I’m prying into your affairs, but are you two okay? When I came in this morning I got the feeling that I’d interrupted something.”

Mulder sighed, mothers, they must have some inbuilt radar for spotting trouble. "We had an argument, but it’s nothing to worry about, we’ll get over it, we always do.” Despite his reassuring words to Maggie, in his own heart he wasn’t at all sure that they would.


	4. solo chapter 4

~oOo~

Chapter Three

Druid Hill Park.  
Baltimore.  
Maryland  
11:30am

There were cars parked all over the small grassy area on the side of the walkway leading to the wooded lakeshore path. Uniformed officers milled around, keeping onlookers and members of the press from crossing the taped off area. As Scully's car pulled up, the officers looked up and two of them approached the car. 

"I'll wait here for you, Agent Scully." The driver got out of the car and opened the rear passenger door.

Scully slipped the folder she'd been reading into her briefcase. "I can probably get a lift back with another agent."

"It's no problem. You might as well take advantage of me while I'm around." Smiling at her, he shut the door.

"Alright, thanks." She turned to face the police officers. Reaching into her coat pocket she pulled out her ID and held it up. “I’m looking for SAC Prebetich.”

The larger of the two officers looked her over and leisurely examined her credentials. “All right, Agent Scully.” He pointed towards the taped off footpath. “If you head over in that direction you’ll find him, just watch where you step.” 

“Thank you.” She set off towards the path. The ground was still wet; the sun hadn't dried the grass. Ducking under the yellow tape, she headed towards the woods. Apart from the faint rustling of leaves on branches and the occasional splashing sound as a bird took flight from the lake, the path was quiet and still. Scully had read most of the file in the car so she had an idea of what to expect; the pictures had been explicit and the forensic reports had been detailed, but there was nothing like seeing a scene first hand. Pictures and reports had a distancing effect; she’d written enough of them to understand their clinical detachment from the more sensual aspects of a crime scene. 

She rounded a bend in the path and saw another uniformed officer standing up ahead. Flashing up her ID again she walked up to the officer.

"I'm Special Agent Scully. I'm looking for SAC Prebetich."

"Your group is about twenty yards around the next bend." The man looked a little green around the gills.

"Thank you." She moved to walk around him.

"I hope you skipped breakfast, Agent." 

"Bad?" She met his eyes and saw a faint sheen of tears in the policeman's haunted gaze. 

"I've never seen anything like it." His voice was hollow and a little shaky.

Scully gave him a brief, sympathetic nod of her head and continued down the path. She realized why the officer back at the car had warned her to watch her step; several pools of vomit dotted the path. Scully carefully stepped around the mess, her nose crinkling slightly at the sour smell. She heard the low rumble of voices ahead of her and as she rounded the bend she saw the agents and uniformed officers moving around a sheet draped body, like planets circling a sun.

She caught the eye of one of the agents dressed in a shirt and tie and an FBI windbreaker.

"Agent Scully?" The man walked towards her, a small smile on his face

"Yes."

"Hi, I'm Agent Hicks. The SAC is over there." He pointed towards a big man standing over the body, talking on a cell phone.

"Thanks. Has the area been swept?"

"Yep, you're fine to walk over there, just watch where you step."

She gave Hicks a nod of thanks and headed over to the draped body. As she walked she took in the scene. This part of the path was surrounded by a small clearing; low bushes and saplings graduated further back into mature trees. The body was slightly off the path by a young oak. The ground around the body was dark with blood. She was closer now and the smell of feces and blood and the sharp ammonia stink of stale urine was getting stronger. The sheet that covered the body had become stained with fluids. Curled fingers peeked out from the far right corner.

"Agent Scully?"

Scully looked up at the sound of the deep voice.

"Agent Prebetich?"

"Yes. I'm glad you could get over here so quickly." He slipped his cell in his pocket and held out his hand.

Scully shook it briefly. His grip was firm but not crushing. "AD Skinner gave me a car and driver. He said that you thought it was the 'Artist'?"

"Oh yes, this is his handiwork. I've no doubt about that. An old guy found the body at around seven thirty his morning. He was out walking his dog." Prebetich ran his hand through his dark hair. "It's a hell of a thing to find. He's been taken to the hospital to be treated for shock."

"Do we know who the victim is?"

"This is Tessa Platt, twenty nine years old, she lives on Howard Street. Her purse was found next to her body. Uniforms have gone over to her place; apparently she shared a house with three other women, all teachers over at Campbell Street Junior High." He looked at her for a moment, his eyes were dark brown his expression, almost apologetic. "You ready to take a look?"

"Yeah." Scully took a pair of latex gloves out of her coat pocket and put them on. She hunkered down next to the body and carefully lifted the corner of the sheet and pulled it down. 

"God." Her voice was a whisper.

"I don't think God had much to do with this." 

Prebetich was right. As Scully looked at what had become of this once pretty young woman, she found herself slowly shutting her emotions down, there was no other way to deal with it. She felt that shifting of focus that always came when she was confronted with violent crime. Her game face firmly in place, she began to examine the woman more closely. 

Her body had been laid out in a spread eagle position. Scully looked into the abdomen, the colon and large intestine had been sliced into sections and placed around the gaping wound in the manner of a sunburst pattern, very neat and tidy. The wound in the abdomen was not. This wasn't a surgical incision, she had been gutted.

"He used a large knife, probably a hunting knife, from the look of the wound. She was killed here. The amount of blood that's soaked into the ground bears that out. She was alive when he did this, but not for long. From the looks of it he sliced the iliac artery; she'd have died pretty quickly after that." Scully's voice was icily calm

"Check out the eyes."

Scully looked at he woman's face. She saw blood streaks coming down from below the closed lid of her right eye. She gently lifted the lid. The socket was empty. She did the same with the other eyelid to be met by a soft blue iris that surrounded a dilated pupil; the gaze milky with the patina of death.

"Have you found the missing eye?"

"No."

"The right eye has been missing on all four of his victims, so this not a copycat."

"Yeah, we never released that to the press. It's our guy, no doubt."

Scully turned her attention back to the body. "Look at her lips, there is skin missing and a sticky residue. Her mouth was taped." She checked the woman's arms. "So were her wrists. We can get an analysis on the adhesive, and find out what tape he used."

Prebetich nodded, his eyes roamed the body. "That's probably the only race evidence we're going to find. This psycho thinks he's Martha Stewart. The scene is always pristine. No hair, no fibers, no body fluids. He wears gloves, he doesn't sexually assault his victims, he even sweeps over his footprints or he wears shoes with no tread. 

"We may find evidence under the finger nails." Scully carefully lifted one of the hands to look at the victim’s nails. "Maybe she scratched him."

"We've never found anything so far, maybe you'll get lucky. He seems to subdue his victims quickly, not giving them the opportunity to resist." 

Scully draped the sheet back over the dead woman. "I read most of the file on the way here. It seems our killer is a very smart guy, but surely someone must have seen something? He likes to display his victims, this takes time, the clean up must take time. He has to be incredibly organized or incredibly lucky." Scully stood up and faced Prebetich. "The level of violence bothers me. He obviously has some deep-seated rage going on, why then is there such a big gap between each killing? He seems to have killed four women over a period of four years. Either he must have unheard of control for a serial murderer or else he has another outlet that we don't know about."

"The brains over at BSU figured he might be killing one each year as some form of ritualistic behaviour." Prebetich shrugged. "Did you get time to read the profile?"

"Yes, it was the standard, white male, thirty to fifty years old; intelligent, socially functional, who probably has some issues with his mother."

"Yeah, not a ton of help. I have issues with my mother but I'm not running around killing women." Prebetich looked tired and frustrated. "Look Agent Scully, can I be honest with you?"

"Of course."

I'm new to this case, in fact I'm new to VCS. A few months ago I worked white collar crimes; I got incredibly lucky and cracked a very big case of fraud and murder which impressed the guys at the top. When the agent in charge of this case was medically discharged due to a nervous breakdown, I was transferred here to help out. I'm not a profiler, I'm a numbers cruncher, I collate facts. I'm no voodoo mind bender, I don't know what evil lurks in the hearts of men. I've got agents in Alabama looking into a serial murder down there; some bigwig's son got in the way of an axe and seeing as the father has political connections then that case apparently takes precedence over this one. I need all the help I can get." 

Scully sighed, she should have known "This is why you asked for me isn't it? You want Agent Mulder's help and you can only get it by going through me."

Prebetich put his hand on her arm. "Agent, I asked for the both of you before Agent Mulder got injured. I need people who can think out of the box, and you two seem to be able to do that. When I found out that you were available, I asked AD Skinner for your services. I realise that Agent Mulder is under suspension at the moment and therefore out of the picture. I've read your file Agent Scully, your skills have been pivotal in the arrest of at least three serial murderers. Your experience and expertise is what I desperately need to catch this monster."

Scully looked up at Prebetich, he was taller than Mulder and more muscular yet he didn't intimidate with his bulk. His touch was gentle and his eyes kind and a little sad. She cocked her head at him and lifted her eyebrow, "The Shadow?"

Prebetich smiled and dropped his hand from her arm. "You noticed."

"Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The Shadow knows." Scully announced in a portentous tone.

"You’re a bit young to remember that aren't you?"

Scully nodded in agreement. "My father was a fan, he used to tell me the stories from memory." 

"Ah, we have that in common then, so did mine." 

Scully looked down at the body of Tessa Platt. "I take it you want me to do the autopsy?" She suddenly felt uncomfortable sharing childhood memories over an eviscerated corpse. 

Prebetich's expression turned serious. "Yes, if you would." He beckoned over Agent Hicks. "We need to get the body ready for transport, have you finished cataloguing the scene?"

"Yeah, there's nothing to catalogue, we've gone over the area with a magnifying glass, it's clean." Hicks spoke into his radio, "Okay boys, we're ready to transport."

The noise of a helicopter overhead, made the group look up.

"It's the News chopper. It keeps buzzing around, trying to get a picture. The trees are getting in the way thank god." Prebetich gestured to the path. "Did you see the number of reporters?" 

Scully nodded, "There's nothing like a serial murder for getting the press excited. Have her parents been informed yet?" She watched the body being prepped for transport; the hands were covered by clear plastic bags before the body was zipped up in a black bag, and put on a gurney.

"No, I want to do that myself. The least I can do is promise them our best efforts in finding their daughter's killer."

Scully gave him a sad smile. "Alright, I'll bring the autopsy results over when I've finished." 

"Good. Do you need a lift?"

"No, my car's waiting."

"It's good to have you on the team, Agent Scully."

"I just hope I can help."

He patted her lightly on the shoulder as he walked past her and followed the gurney back down the path. Prebetich seemed like a nice guy, he seemed to genuinely care about this case. She watched as they rounded the bend and disappeared into the trees. 

Scully massaged her temples. This was going to be a nasty case. Already she felt tired but it was more a weariness of spirit. She wasn't naïve enough to believe that her career choice would be easy, but when she'd first joined the FBI she could never have imagined the impact it would have on her life. Her assignment to monitor Mulder had, at first, almost been a source of amusement for her, but somehow she'd been sucked into his strange universe until it had become her own. Her professional and personal life intertwined until all she had was Mulder and the X files. She'd left her friends and, if she was honest, her family back in the land of the 'normal'. She'd just about given up the idea of a relationship, especially now that she'd become the incredible programmable woman. 

Vague ideas about leaving the Bureau and maybe getting certified to go into medical practice had recently started niggling at her, but the thought of that, of leaving the job she'd fought so hard to succeed in; even more, the thought of leaving Mulder…her partner, her…what? They weren't lovers or even that close in the way most friends are. She didn't know what his favourite color was or what music he liked to listen to or what books he loved. She just knew him, his spirit, his soul, better than she knew herself. The thought of leaving him released a churning dichotomy of emotions, hope and terror. Hope that she would be out of the mire of conspiracy and terror that she would lose Mulder. A tiny dark part of her hated him for that, for letting her inside, for getting inside her. For showing her things that she would have been happier not knowing, for putting her in a place where things could happen to her, horrible things that she tried so hard but couldn't forget; for making her need him. 

The sudden take off of a wood pigeon through the trees startled her. She let out a slow breath and focused on the present. She needed to get this case over with and to get Mulder mobile again. The close proximity between them was not helping matters. She just needed to think.

She walked back to the car. The driver got out and ushered her into the back seat, before getting back behind the wheel. 

"Back to the Hoover building?"

"Yes,"

"Sounds like a nasty case."

"Yes."

"You going to catch this guy?" 

"I hope so."

The car started up and slowly made its way back onto the highway, through the remaining police vehicles and straggling reporters. Scully did want to help, it was in her nature. She just wasn't sure she was good enough to catch this killer. She took out the case file again, wishing that she had just a little of Mulder's talent for crawling through the minds of monsters and this killer was a monster, of that she had no doubt.  
The agents in VCS had nicknamed him the 'Artist' because of his penchant for displaying his victims in horrifyingly lurid ways. A more appropriate name might have been the 'Invisible Man' He seemed to have knack for covering his tracks. So far they'd found nothing. Scully wasn't over confident that she was going to turn up anything in the autopsy either, but as she looked at the pictures of the previous three victims, she wanted to believe that she would.

.


	5. Chapter 5

~oOo~

Chapter Four

Mulder's Apartment.  
Alexandria  
Washington DC  
21:15

Maggie Scully stood at the kitchen counter cleaning up the remnants of dinner. She looked at the clock on the wall, and thought that it was no wonder her daughter had no social life if these were the hours she kept. She heard the apartment door open and walked into the living room.

"Speak of the Devil."

"Hi mom…sorry, did I miss something?" Scully slipped off her coat and hung it up before removing her shoes with a heartfelt sigh of relief.

No…I was just thinking about you."

"Sorry mom. It's been a hectic day. Did you save me anything to eat?" She walked into the little kitchen and snagged a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Of course. I made lasagne. It's keeping warm in the oven." 

"I thought I smelled something good, thanks mom." She smiled and took a long drink from the bottle.

"Okay honey, I'm going to leave now. I promised Jean I'd be over for a game of gin rummy this evening

"I didn't think I'd be so late, I got caught up in things. I'll phone to warn you next time"

"It's alright. I'll be around in the morning, about seven thirty." Maggie walked to the door picking up her coat and bag along the way. "Bye, honey." She kissed her daughter. "Try and cheer up that partner of yours, he's been moping all day."

"Bye mom, see you in the morning." As she shut the door behind her, she took a deep breath. It was time to face the music. She walked to the bedroom door and knocked quietly. "Mulder it's me." She went in to find him propped up in bed with his laptop, cell phone and several sheets of paper scattered all over. "You've been keeping busy?"

"Not as busy as you, apparently." he said, still looking at something on his computer screen.

Scully folded her arms, already feeling defensive. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Mulder looked up at her, his face expressionless. "The camera got your good side."

She realized that he must have seen her on the news. "Yes, I was glad I was wearing my good suit." She tried to lighten the mood a little.

"You're late."

Obviously Mulder was determined to brood. "You know what it's like, I had to autopsy the body and do a detailed study of the previous autopsies on the other victims, and then there were the meetings to go over the evidence so far." 

"Is there any evidence so far?" He was chewing the end of a pencil and staring at her with flat dead eyes.

"Not much." 

"Didn't think so. He's a clever little psychopath."

It suddenly dawned on Scully what he had been doing. "Mulder, have you been drawing up a profile?" It would explain his slightly detached moodiness.

"Might as well, I'd begun to develop an unhealthy dislike for Dr. Ruth." He looked at her for a beat before giving a smile devoid of any hint of warmth. "Or don't you want me to Scully; has Skinner been putting on the thumb screws?"

She dropped her gaze from his and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Mulder, I…"

"It's okay, I get it. The bosses don't want me to mess this one up, right?"

"You didn't mess up the last case, Mulder. You saved a child's life." She walked over to the bed, she would have sat down but there were so many papers strewn about that there was no room. "I think Skinner was being leaned on."

His eyes seemed to come into full focus for the first time since she'd entered the room.

"I'm sorry about this morning." 

Scully was used to Mulder's mercurial personality shifts; they no longer intimidated her. "Yeah, me too." 

"I still stand by my reasons for leaving you behind when I went for Doran."

Scully took a step back. "Mulder, I don't want to talk about this now." She was too tired after a long day to want to rehash this morning's argument.

"You wanted to talk about it this morning."

I know, and we will talk, but I'm tired, I just want a shower and something to eat, then I've got some work to do before I can get some sleep."

"Okay." His tone suggested that it was anything but.

"Did you take your meds?"

A genuine Mulder smile reached his lips. "Scully, I think your mother may be related to Mussolini. The woman's a dictator." 

Scully breathed a sigh of relief that he was letting her off the hook, at least for now. "Sorry Mulder, we're Irish to the core. Has she been giving you a hard time?" 

"I've been coddled to the point of catatonia."

Scully gave him a sympathetic smile. "It was the only arrangement that I could come up with other than hiring a private nurse."

"You could just leave me on my own, you know, I'll manage."

"Mulder, if our positions were reversed would you leave me to cope alone?"

"In a heartbeat. I'd be off hitting the high spots and bestowing my many charms on the female population of this great city." Mulder said airily.

Scully gave him a deeply sceptical look. "Of course you would. In which case, you deserve to be coddled as only my mother can."

"It's hardly fair to bring logic into the argument." Mulder looked aggrieved

"Who ever said that life was fair?"

Mulder's expression darkened "No-one Scully, no-one at all."

Scully looked at him. "Mulder?"

"Life wasn't very fair to the woman you examined this morning, or to the other three women he slaughtered." 

She knew he was right, it would be ridiculous not to use his abilities. "Give me your profile Mulder; we need all the help we can get because so far, we haven't a clue." She held out her hand.

Mulder removed a disc from his laptop and handed it to her. "It's all on there, try and trickle it into the investigation so it doesn't look as though it's coming from me." He smiled at her "I don't want you to get into trouble." 

"I think it's way too late in our association to worry about that," she said slipping the disk into her jacket pocket. 

"I guess not, but promise me one thing."

"What's that?"

"Promise me you'll take extra care with this one, it's very likely he'll be watching what the investigating officers do, he's probably among the onlookers at the sites. Check the shots of the crowds at the scenes. Just be careful, this guy is very nasty." 

"I know Mulder, I spent three hours on the autopsy. I know what he's capable of."

"I wasn't implying that you didn't, I just want you to be safe."

Scully felt her frustration rise; she seemed unable to control her seesawing emotions at the moment. "I'm a field agent, it's not exactly the safest job in the world, I'm a big girl I can take care of myself. Will you stop trying to protect me and just let me do my job."

Mulder sat up straighter in the bed, his own frustration giving him impetus. "Jesus Scully, what is so wrong in wanting to keep my partner safe?" 

"That's just it, we're supposed to be partners, we're supposed to watch each other's backs. You aren't supposed to go out there without me to back you up, but time and time again you push me aside when it suits your purpose. I'm not your damned sidekick, Mulder." Scully's voice was low and quiet with seething indignation.

He threw his hands up. "Oh, we’re back to this again? I thought you didn't want to talk about it now.” In contrast, Mulder's voice had risen in volume.

"You know, you're right. I don't. I'm going to take a shower." She turned sharply and headed for the door.

Fed up with watching her ramrod straight back receding from him, Mulder made a grab for his crutches. "Dammit Scully. Stop walking away from me." He managed only to knock his crutches to the floor. 

Scully turned at the noise. She walked back to the bed and picked up the crutches and placed them against the wall. "Now you know how it feels." She watched Mulder's anger slowly leak out of him. She put her hands over her face for a few seconds trying to calm down. "Mulder, I don't want to argue, I'm tired, you're tired, this is not a good time. Just let me get this case over with then, maybe, we can talk rationally about what's going on." 

"What is going on, Scully?" Mulder looked lost.

"Look, we'll talk later when we've got more time. I promise." Her eyes pleaded with him to let it go.

"Okay, we'll do it your way, but you're scaring me, Scully. I don't know what is going on with you at the moment. "

She knew that he wanted some reassurance, but she wasn't quite able to give it to him, she felt as lost and confused as he did. "Thank you." She gave him a little smile. "Do you want anything?"

Mulder looked as though he wanted a lot of things. "No." He shook his head.

"Okay. I'll bring you a coffee in a while and you can take your meds. How are you feeling?" She dropped into the role of doctor, which seemed much safer territory.

"Stiff and sore, but okay." 

"That's to be expected. Just try to rest, okay?"

Mulder nodded. All the fight was drained out of him now.

"I'll be back in a while."

Scully left the bedroom with more than a little relief and headed for the shower, fervently wishing that she could wash this day away.

~oOo~

Apartment 19   
Paxton Place  
Julian Street  
Baltimore  
Maryland

22:00

Alice Hudson sat on her sofa, looking at the door to her small but well kept apartment. He was late, her skin had begun to itch and tingle as though an army of tiny ants were burrowing their way under her flesh. She'd turned the television off because the noise was making her jumpy. She lit up a cigarette, and took a long shaky drag on the filter.  
God, why wouldn't he come; she started to tear at her thumbnail with her teeth, ripping it off nearly to the quick. The rest of her nails were in much the same condition. Alice was a junkie and had been since she was fourteen. Vince, her then pimp, had introduced her to the needle and the bliss it contained after a customer had beaten her up, she'd been sore and skittish about going out on the street again. Vince had told her that it would make her feel better, and it had, for a while, until she realised that Vince used it to keep her tied to him; by then it was too late to stop. 

Alice had grown up in a small town in Louisiana. Her father had left when she was seven, leaving her mother to bring up Alice and her three brothers alone. There had been a succession of 'uncles' over the years, some of whom she’d quite liked and some she hadn't, although they'd liked her. They would tell her as they touched her, how pretty she was, how they couldn't resist such a sweet little thing, how she mustn't tell her mother; that it was their little secret. She'd kept a lot of those secrets over the years. The house became so full of them that there wasn't any room left for her, so she'd left. At the age of thirteen she packed a small rucksack with a few clothes and the necklace that her Grandma had given her and then ran, walked and hitched her way to Los Angeles.

LA had seemed like another planet compared to her little town. Even the air was different…hot, dry and energizing instead of the sultry stickiness that rotted everything organic. Back home there was always the faint odour of decay just underneath the sweet scent of jasmine. She'd very quickly discovered however, that the men in LA were no different than the ones in Louisiana, and had soon found herself in the company of Vince Crane, who took her under his protection, or more accurately kept a substantial cut of the money he made out of selling her to those who craved her youth and sweetness. She'd not been in LA a year when Vince had got himself in trouble with the wrong people and they'd upped stakes and high-tailed it to Baltimore, since Vince had cousins there. It had been a warm summer night when she'd met the man that she now waited for. He'd come across her in an alley behind a theatre. Vince had been smacking her around for pissing off a potential customer. He had stepped in and punched Vince in the face. Alice remembered the satisfaction she'd felt at seeing Vince's blood dripping off his chin and down the front of his shirt. The man had taken Vince around the corner, he'd told her to wait there and she did, she had nowhere else to go anyway. The man returned, telling her that he'd paid Vince off and that he would look after her now.

That's how it had been for the last five years. He kept her in a decent apartment and she never had to fuck anybody but him. He'd taught her not to want anyone but him. He brought her syringes filled with dark amber fluid; he didn't even let her cook it up herself. Over the years she'd learned to be a very good girl because the consequences of disappointing him were the stuff of nightmares. 

Alice jumped a little as a key turned in the door. She sat up straight, eager and expectant. He walked in and smiled at her. He had a beautiful smile. He was holding something behind his back.

"Hello Alice, have you been waiting for me?"

He always called her by her name she'd spent so many years being called 'baby' or 'sugar' It was one of the first things she'd loved about him. "Yes." He knew she had been waiting but he always asked.

"Have you been a good girl today?" He walked slowly towards her.

"Yes." She nodded vigorously, looking at his coat pocket knowing what waited for her in its depths.

"Are you sure?" One eyebrow rose in a perfect arch.

"Yes." Please, please, please, please, she droned in her head.

"I don't think you're being honest with me Alice." His voice was still light but there was a note of censure in it.

Shit, she had done something wrong…think…what had she done today?…Watched the TV…read a romance novel… gone to the hallway outside her apartment to get a closer look at Mrs. Reynolds' little cat playing in the courtyard… she liked the cat. 

"You talked to Mr. Hernandez, didn't you?" He was standing in front of her now, still smiling.

"Yes, just for a second. He wanted to talk about the weather, that's all." She'd forgotten about the brief conversation she'd had with the little man two doors down. Her skin had begun to prickle with need.

"You mentioned going on holiday I think." His smile widened to show a neat row of pearly teeth.

Alice desperately tried to remember the conversation." I might have, but it was just small talk, it didn't mean anything…it was nothing…really. I was just out there looking through the big window at the little cat."

"Calm down Alice, it's alright." He brought his hands from behind his back. He held a bag, one of those pretty little bags that stores put gifts in, he held it out to her, still smiling.

She took it from him, the thick glossy paper making a crinkling sound as she held it. "Thank you." She always remembered her manners with him.

"Open it." He gestured to the bag, his eyes warm and encouraging.

Alice carefully pulled the top of the bag open and looked inside…Very slowly, fat salty tears ran down her pale cheeks, they dripped off her chin and landed on the soft grey fur of Mrs. Reynolds' little cat.

"Now there's no reason for you to go into the hallway, is there, Alice?" 

She kept silent, a tiny gesture of defiance as her fingers reached inside the bag to stroke the still little body.

"Alice, don't try my patience. You won't go into the hallway without me again."

"No, I won't go into the hallway without you again." She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater.

"Good, then that's all settled. I can't stay long tonight Alice." He sat back on the sofa and opened his coat.

Alice put the bag down on the coffee table and moved between his spread legs and knelt down. She slowly undid his pants, and reached into the fly of his dove grey boxers. He was very hard; she suspected he'd been excited for some time as fluid was already weeping from the glistening head of his penis.

"Tell me you love me." 

Alice knew the routine by rote. "I love you baby."

"I love you too Alice."

A long time ago she'd believed him, but she'd grown wiser over the years.

"Suck me"

Relieved that this was all that he wanted, she took him in her mouth and began to move up and down his rigid length working her tongue around the head just the way he liked it. He didn't last long and she felt his semen hit the back of her throat in rapid spurts. Her nose was stuffy from crying and she had to try very hard not to gag, he wouldn't like that at all.

"That was very nice Alice, thank you." He fastened his pants and sat up beaming at her, his cheeks slightly flushed.

She looked up at him expectantly, her smile fever bright.

"I suppose you want this." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a syringe, complete with a needle with its cap firmly on. He smiled and waved the syringe in front of Alice's pleading eyes.

Alice reached for it, but he snatched it back and giggled. He held it out to her again, she reached and again he pulled it back before she could grasp it.

"Please." 

"You know I shouldn't let you have this Alice, seeing how naughty you've been today." He smiled at her enjoying his little game.

"Please." Her skin burned now, she needed it, he had to let her have it. "Please."

"Alright, you're lucky that I'm in a good mood." He held it out to her.

Alice grasped it and held it to her chest. "Thank you." 

"You're welcome." He stood up from the sofa and patted her head. "I've got to go now Alice, but I'll be back tomorrow. You will be good while I'm gone, won't you?"

"Yes." 

He looked down at her for a long minute his eyes empty of anything remotely resembling human. "You won't like what I'll do if you're not."

"I'll be good, baby, I promise."

He gave a dazzling smile. "Good." He strode to the door and opened it. "Don't forget to lock up behind me." He turned to go but noticed the bag still on the coffee table. He walked back and picked it up. "I'd better take this with me; we don't want it to stink the place up." Giving her head one last pat he walked out of the apartment closing the door behind him.

Alice slowly stood up, still holding the syringe to her chest. She went to the door and slid the deadbolts. She walked across the living room and into her bedroom with its sugar-pink walls that he'd painted for her. She sat on the bed with its heavy quilt and reached into the nightstand for her length of soft rubber tubing which she wrapped around her ankle. Alice waited for a decent vein to pop up on her thin pale foot. She took the cap off the needle and slid it into a snaking thin blue blood vessel. She emptied the syringe then loosened the rubber tubing and with a sigh, lay back on the bed and, if only for a short while, she was free.


End file.
